


Night of Wonder

by guineamania



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Asexual!Enjolras, Co-Parenting, E/C/C/R Platonically, F/M, Fluff, Getting Together, Grantaire Has Issues, Honestly it is sweeter than it sounds, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, It's Grantaire and he uses far more words than required, Living Together, M/M, Multi, One Dimension 20 reference, POC!Combeferre, Panic Attacks, Polyamory, Self-Esteem Issues, Serious Self Loating, Therapy mentioned, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:21:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21748951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guineamania/pseuds/guineamania
Summary: Grantaire has never felt as good as when he has lived with the trio that is Enjolras, Courfeyrac and Combeferre but that does not mean he is well, mentally that is. Well with them being so perfect what is there left for him?But co-parenting his best friend's kid brother with them is bringing the group closer together. Maybe new relationships can form?
Relationships: Combeferre/Grantaire (Les Misérables), Cosette Fauchelevent/Marius Pontmercy, Courfeyrac/Cosette Fauchelevent/Marius Pontmercy, Courfeyrac/Enjolras (Les Misérables)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12
Collections: Les Mis Holiday Exchange (2019)





	Night of Wonder

**Author's Note:**

  * For [C-chan (1001paperboxes)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/1001paperboxes/gifts).



> So … this escalated and I hope you enjoy the 4k of Grantaire freaking the hell out. I am probably going to keep writing in this verse because I love it now but needed to get the first instalment out for the challenge.  
> This actually all came from seeing the Staged Concert twice and loving the fact all the way through Grantaire, Courfeyrac, Combeferre and Enjolras are looking after Gav and are so friendly and affectionate with this random child they picked up somewhere. I just wanted to write about that!  
> Grantaire is such an unreliable narrator and the words just kept coming. He also experiences panic attacks like I do so may read a little weird :) 
> 
> Prompt:  
> Really, I'll take just about any romantic or platonic combination of E/C/C/R  
> Some ideas include...  
> Combeferre mentoring/aiding Grantaire and/or being a positive person in his life in general  
> The Triumvirate being friends as kids and/or growing up together  
> Some sort of domestic scene with Enjolras and Combeferre (the platonic life partners) or Courfeyrac and Combeferre (opposites that complete each other far too well.)  
> Any awesome AU involving some or all of these people would be very welcome. Have fun with them!  
> Bonus points for involved political or philosophical conversations, Combeferre being a giant nerd, Courfeyrac being poly (but very much respecting his partners' wishes... though if he's entirely consensually splitting his time between Combeferre and Marius/Cosette, I'd LOVE that), and lots of general love and lifting each other up from all sides. =D
> 
> Hope you like!

People talk about being a third wheel. You know, when two friends start dating each other and systematically forget that the third person exists. That can happen in friendships too. The only way Grantaire had to describe his friend situation was as a fourth wheel. Well wouldn’t that make a perfect car you ask, and that may be true but when three wonderful, amazing human beings have been best friends since they popped out of the respective uteruses (uteri?) then what use do they have for another. The triumvirate, as they were better known, contained three men who ruled Les Amis like the gods they really were. Enjolras, Apollo in flesh (at least they thought it was flesh, he ran away when a drunk Bahorel prowled after him with a knife to find out so nobody really knows), the unofficial leader of the rebellious social justice group they all called home. His blonde curls always framed his face in a way that seemed perfectly styled and porcelain skin was never blemished. Les Amis was everything to Enjolras, working as a high flying lawyer just wasn’t doing it for his saving people complex and the golden hero aimed to reform the whole of France before he hit thirty. Courfeyrac, the bringer of joy and light in their little family, was a short brunette bundle of energy. When he set his mind to it you would never be able to avoid him and hide from his intoxicating spirit. Many a time the human personification of a puppy had pulled Grantaire out of deathly low moments. And then there was Combeferre, Combeferre was everything but not in such a domineering way as his two counterparts. He was soft and kind, and reassuring even when you didn’t realise you needed it. Combeferre was Grantaire’s life line and, god, he would never know it. See, the trio introduced here were just that. A trio.

“Mornin R,” Courfeyrac grinned, diving into a plate of pancakes as Grantaire stumbled out of his room into the light open plan living room. Grantaire managed to growl out an affirmative before he reached the coffee and then that had all of his attention. Combeferre and Enjolras were of course already pristine and proper and sat around the table with plans and papers spread everywhere that wasn’t occupied by Courfeyrac’s pancakes.

“R you good to take Gav to school today? There’s some PTA thing tonight I’ll sort,” Combeferre smiled softly at the artist’s arrival, whereas Enjolras did not look up from the book he was reading and his coffee.

“Sure thing. I don’t have to be at the museum til eleven,” Grantaire shrugged and sauntered over to kick the door to the spare bedroom with his heel. He only received a disgruntled murmuring in response and kicked it again.

“God, stop that I’m up,” Graintaire smirked as he heard the tell-tale thump of Gavroche rolling out of bed. Grantaire had known the Thenardier siblings all of his life, you didn’t live in the Parisian underworld without knowing of the Thenardier’s at least. Grantaire had managed to get out, get a scholarship to a prestigious art school, joined a social justice group on a whim when he followed a hot blonde into a bar, and find three students who had a five bed house in the city and were looking for another boarder for a criminally low price. Eponine was still his best friend and upon his turn of good luck he felt the need to share. Eponine had her own little studio apartment a couple of blocks away where Gavroche could live but the boy had wormed his way into the trivirate’s hearts. They were just helping out making sure the kid got to school, was fed three square meals a day and stayed out of the gangs that Eponine and Grantaire called home for their formative years. As much as she would loathe to say it, Eponine appreciated the care and it allowed her to work to build a better life for the two of them.

Ten minutes of nice silence only interrupted by the flipping of pages from the two resident book worms was then destroyed by the swirling torrent of a pre-teen in a rush. “R, we gotta go or we’ll miss the metro!” Gavroche was a blur of red school jumper and dirty blonde curls.

“Chill out kid. I’m ready,” Grantaire laughed as Combeferre passed Gavroche his school bag and Enjolras tossed an apple and a granola bar from his stash as Gavroche passed him looking for his shoes.

“Enjy is going to pick you up this afternoon and enjoy spending the night with the Amis and Ep,” Combeferre ruffled the kid’s hair and hearded him and a keening Grantaire out of the door.

“Hey, I wasn’t done with that,” Grantaire sulked as Combeferre took his coffee but grinned when he replaced it with a travel mug.

“I know you well,” Combeferre grinned in reply then slammed the door in his face.

Gavroche safely at school, after Grantaire putting the finishing touches on his history homework through narration on the metro (don’t judge it was a massive step for him to actually do most of it), and so Grantaire headed to work early to do so of his own history homework. Working at the Musée d'Orsay, even if it was just as a minimum wage tour guide did give Grantaire ample opportunity for stetching and to research his dissertation in his History of Art degree. Focusing on Theo Van Gogh was a rogue move but the reach of the dutch art dealer was truly astounding and his patronage and dedication to artists built careers. The focus on Theo as Vincent’s brother is important, he did truly support and care for his brother, but not the whole story. Anyway, side note completed, there were a large number of paintings Theo sold in the museum and Grantaire’s study was of if there were trends in the paintings he chose to broker deals for, aside from the growth of the impressionist movement, and did these link to his personal taste as displayed by his brother’s work and those that he funded. Grantaire loved impressionists and refused to be swayed from studying the period in more depth.

It was sat in front of A Modern Olympia, where Combeferre found Grantaire that evening. The artist’s shift had finished an hour prior but he used the free time in the museum to sketch. “Afternoon mon ami, it’s beautiful is it not,” Grantaire addressed Combeferre as he approached.

“Art is very much your thing R. I can only admire it at face value,” Combeferre settled on the bench as Grantaire tucked his sketchbook away. It would take a lot for Grantaire to show anyone the intimate sketches held between its worn leather covers.

“Even as an aspiring doctor I’m sure you can see the remarkable composition. Imagine seeing this for the first time in the 1870s, the scorn the outrage. The artist displaying the piece being ridiculed as a madman and a heathen,” Grantaire lit up as he spoke, almost desperately seeking the approval and debate of his listener.

“It’s often the case, those who are heretics are just those who see the world for how it is. If we have no heretics we must invent them for heresy is essential to health and growth,” Combeferre replied, and Grantaire paused for a moment to think.

“Who’s that one?” he asked with a shake of the head.

“Yevgeny Zamyatin,” Combeferre smirked, it always did amuse him to get quotes that Grantaire could not place.

“And that is supposed to mean something to me?” Grantaire quipped back, mirroring COmbeferre’s smirk.

“A major formative Russian author in the early nineteen hundreds,” Combeferre shrugged and returned to looking slightly nervous.

“All around that dull grey world of ideology, people storm the marketplace and buy up fantasy,” Grantaire replied, turning back to the painting.

“Who’s that one?” Combeferre just couldn’t place it.

“Rush, 1991.”

“Anyway, all jokes aside,” Grantaire chuckled, looking at Combeferre’s disgruntled expression. “What can I do for you? I’m assuming you came looking for me for a reason outside of a witty debate,” and there it was again, a look of nerves.

“Enjolras picked up Gav today to take him to the Musain and the PTA thing is actually Parent Teacher Evening. Eponine is working and so I said I would attend. She’s got day shifts the next three days and then a day off so doesn’t really want to swap this night away. And I don’t want to ask her, however despite being fine with a load of family friends picking up the kids and volunteering for the PTA they need one of Gav’s official guardians in attendance,” Combeferre explained, studying the wooden bench closely as he spoke. Grantaire hummed in understanding. Grantaire was on everything as Eponine’s next of kin and Gavroche’s godfather. It was a desperate attempt suggested by Courfeyrac as their unofficial lawyer to stop Gavroche going back to the Thenardiers if anything happened to Eponine. This did mean that he was allowed to be registered in the ‘father’ slot on Gavroche’s admissions form.

“I’ll go it’s chill. Didn’t have much planned for tonight anyway,” Grantaire tried to project understanding into his voice but everyone knew how much Grantaire hated these sorts of things. Any forced interaction with an authority figure made him want to curl up into a ball with a bottle of whisky, the cheapest chocolate chunk ice-cream he could find, and RuPaul’s Drag Race; the joys of crippling anxiety.

“I’ll of course come with you. And do most of the talking but they won’t let just me go and I promised Ep,” Combeferre continued to ramble on eventually fading away.

“Honestly it’s chill. Let’s head home and I’ll even let you dress me to be a respectable member of society,” Grantaire bounced onto the balls of his feet, slung his bag over his shoulder and offered his hand to Combeferre.

Grantaire felt like he was channelling a high schooler as he stood in front of his wardrobe with his hands on his hips. It was a parent teacher evening why was it so hard to decide what to wear. He wanted to look life he had his life together and was a perfectly capable human being to look after a kid. Gavroche was the only person in the whole world who actually looked up to Grantaire and Gav had worked hard at this new school. Grantaire could not ruin this for him and any teacher worth their title would be able to see right through him and see that he was a mess and had only found himself where he was due to pure chance and one guy thinking he was good with a pencil. “R, hey breathe with me okay,” Combeferre was suddenly stood in between his body and the shirts mocking him upon their hangers. And it occurred to Grantaire that he hadn’t been breathing and the lack of air was probably something to do with his adled mind needing someone else to remind him to do so. Gasping, Grantaire came back to himself and felt like he was choking on the air. “Copy my breathing,” Combeferre’s voice once again cut through the fog. Grantaire somehow managed to grab hold of Combeferre’s shirt and allowed the soothing regular pace of the medical student’s breathing calm him. “How about we sit?” Combeferre asked and Grantaire managed a woozy nod. They sat on the bed side by side and it took a few minutes but Grantaire’s head was finally grounded enough to let go and breath deeply in the silence.

“M sorry, I just get too in my head sometimes,” Grantaire’s own voice still felt distant.

“It’s alright. You don’t have to go I can call Ep,” Combeferre was just so soft and understanding.

“No, no,” Grantaire was coming back to himself now and gripping his leg tightly. It was so stupid; it was just a parents evening. It would be nothing like his parents evenings and Combeferre would be right there doing most of the talking.

“Okay, we’ll how about you put these on,” Combeferre sprung up, effortlessly picking a bottle green shirt with white paint stains Grantaire had styled into leaves and a black pair of suit trousers Grantaire was sure that were Courfeyrac’s at some point. It was just so easy for him. Why couldn’t Grantaire be like that?

“I’ll meet you at the door, we don’t have long,” thankfully Combeferre seemed oblivious to Grantaire’s inner loathing. Loathing was more dangerous when it stopped being an internal thing. As soon as Combeferre shut the door, Grantaire felt his hand around a bottle and took a swig of the amber burning liquid. Liquid courage.

“Gavroche is a clever child however I do believe with more focus he could go on to do great things,” Gavroche’s English teacher repeated the same theme Grantaire had sat through three times already. Yes he was a good kid, they knew that, but he had some attention difficulties, they knew that too. And everyone was working on it; it was hard to stop that when Gavroche raised himself on the street. Street smarts were always going to be more important to him than book smarts. Combeferre pandered to these teachers with an ease that could have only come from being a teacher’s pet in his childhood. Grantaire’s relationship with teachers was more along the lines of what is going to happen first: I get expelled or you retire out of stress. More often than not it was the first one. “I understand, it must be difficult raising a child without a stable home life,” the teacher smiled, too intensively as she looked between Combeferre and Grantaire, back and forth.

“And I assure you, we are working on it. Thanks for your time, we’ll get Gav to read more or something,” Grantaire cut out of his daydreaming and herded Combeferre away.

“What was that about?” Combeferre asked as soon as they were out of earshot and the teacher had started talking to the next set of doting parents.

“Ep warned me about this. Some of the teachers and parents here, despite Gavroche explicitly informing them otherwise,” Grantaire began to explain with a necessary emphasis on the word explicitly, “have began rumours that me and Ep are actually Gavroche’s parents and are raising him each with our new families.” Combeferre gawped, Grantaire knew the feeling. The begin with, how old do they think he is to have a thirteen year old son. He would at least have to be in his thirties and mid twenties Grantaire is seriously offended by that. Secondly, Eponine and him coupling and producing a child literally makes him want to vomit; he is very much gay and she is very much his sister in all but blood. Finally, where do they think he is getting all these men? Great, Gavroche’s school is open minded and encouraging to non-traditional families but the fact that Grantaire might have three men in his life romantically is pushing it way too far.

“Really, of all the things they could be gossiping about,” Combeferre huffed bringing a smile to Grantaire’s face. The next stop was the physics teacher and when the duo sat down this teacher was by far the cheeriest they had met. “Pleasure to meet you both,” he reached over the table and shook both of their hands. Firm grip, Grantaire appreciated that.

“You too,” Combeferre plastered on his teacher’s pet smile as they all sat.

“Gavroche, I don’t quite know how to put him into words. And I’m sure you must get this a lot,” Mr Richardson laughed, surprisingly nervously in the face of two of Gavroche’s guardians.

“You have no idea dude. The kid’s an agent of chaos,” Grantaire laughed, also nervously.

“A talented one, I very rarely see children take to my subject as quickly as Gavroche has this year. If he carries on in this passion and dedication to the subject he will be a formidable engineer in the future,” looking at Combeferre’s face, he was just as stunned as Grantaire was. They continued to discuss moving forward and what they could do to encourage this desire in the future. The royal they, Combeferre did the heavy lifting.

“The philosophy of the school room in one generation will be the philosophy of the government in the next,” Combeferre stated, heatedly and prodded Grantaire in the chest. Debating with Combeferre was almost as fun as antagonising Enjolras and Grantaire grinned as they walked.

“Abraham Lincoln, really Ferre that’s an easy one?” he retorted with a scoff.

“I meant all of the teachers wanted to curb Gavroche’s spirt and enthusiasm and all that will do with breed a new generation of rebellion,” Combeferre’s stride lengthened as he became more and more passionate and all of Grantaire’s five foot eight frame could not keep up with Combeferre’s perfectly proportioned legs at six foot one.

“I mean education is the best the past generation can offer the new young uns and it is potentially that negative attitude towards letting anyone who has miss stepped in the past near children that stops education actually being a force for good. Are teachers trained poorly?” Grantaire jogged in little steps and panted out his reply. It took this for Combeferre to realise how his speed had escalated and, Grantaire assumed, without thinking he gripped Grantaire’s hand and kept walking and talking.

“Teacher training is all it can be. You are trying to pull the best of the best out of university education and often the people we would idealistically want teaching the next generation, are the ones that resent their teachers the most and would hate to do that. It’s a vicious cycle,” Combeferre debated passionately but he had lost Grantaire to the soft weight in his hand. Combeferre was holding his hand. Grantaire could feel his breathing catch in his throat as they walked until the sound stopped in the background. “R? You good,” Combeferre’s voice restarting cut through the rapidly descending fog. Grantaire just kept staring at his hand, fingers entwined with Lucien, sexy black librarian, Combeferre. “I’m sorry, just got caught up in the moment,” Combeferre whispered and dropped Grantaire’s hand. “Unless, you don’t want me to not,” it was almost unintelligible but Grantaire picked up the sound. Now Grantaire had a decision to make and as he proved earlier that day, paralysis due to indecision, self hatred and panic is a definite risk in times like this. Option 1: pretend nothing happened and go back to crushing on Combeferre in private. This option was potentially the most appealing but came with the risk that Combeferre would get some misguided ideas either that Grantaire hated him or that Grantaire wasn’t a soul sucking parasite and they should persue a relationship. Option 2: Explicitly tell Combeferre that the reason they couldn’t do this was that Grantaire would ruin his life. He was a drunkard, barely clinging on to a scholarship he didn’t deserve and may still have some warrants out of his arrest in some minor townships. But Combeferre made him want to be better and to see the same hatred he felt in his soul displayed on Combeferre’s face may be the tipping point to something much much worse. Option 3: They give this a shot. At a mile a minute all the possible ways this could ruin his life and more importantly ruin Combeferre’s life. Grantaire’s life was a shit show anyway and if that rubbed off on Combeferre … he returned to the previous thought about tipping points. However the longer he stood there thinking (and god bless Combeferre for putting up with the awkward silence in the middle of the pavement) the more appealing option 3 was sounding. It could not go wrong, Grantaire shuddered as the thought passed through his adled mind. His therapist will leap with joy at the next session when Grantaire tells him that. And would he be even more a coward if he let this wonderful man pass him buy. In the end it was irrational thought that prevailed and Grantaire felt himself latching on to Combeferre’s body heat to fight off the rising tide of panic. He guessed that was that then.

But Combeferre’s beaming smile. That sealed the deal.

Going to a coffee shop to hash this out was a great plan. No prizes for guessing who thought of it. “I really do want to give this a shot Nic,” Combeferre smiled softly as he cupped Grantaire’s shaking hands in his.

“What about Enjolras?” Grantaire managed to choke out, still not looking Combeferre in the eye. If he saw those beautiful hazel eyes looking at him with compassion his common sense would float away on the wind.

“What about him? He’ll be happy for us. Less pining in the apartment, he’ll be ecstatic,” Combeferre chuckled. That caused Grantaire’s head to shoot up. He had been so sure that Enjolras and Combeferre were built for each other. They just played off each other’s emotions like soulmates. Combeferre frowned at Grantaire’s shock. “You do know that Enj and Courf are together right?” Grantaire nearly passed out for the roughly fifth time that day. “They’ve been keeping it on the down low as Enjy isn’t great with PDA and didn’t want to rub it in our faces but yeah definitely together,” Combeferre reassured Grantaire as he was reconsidering all that he believed in.

“You do really want to do this. A relationship?” Grantaire rubbed his fingers over his own knuckles to fidget and distract himself from how close Combeferre was. They lived together, the man should not have this much of an effect in close proximity.

“R, I care about you. More than I ever thought I could care about someone. I want you to believe that and if you accept I will do everything I can to show you. You are the only person who debates with me for the sake of knowledge and I will have you know that is the biggest turn on I have,” Combeferre moved his hands away from Grantaire’s to cup the mug that had been placed before him. Grantaire mentally keened at the loss of touch.

“Well if there’s one thing I can do it is talk,” Grantaire choked out and it was worth it for the laugh it provoked. “I have been crushing on you pretty much since the first word you said so no doubt on the whole turn on things here,” Grantaire finely allowed himself to ease up and smile.

“Lets do this. No pressure. I’ll take you on a date this week and we’ll work from there,” Combeferre nodded resolutely and sipped his tea.

“Okay boss,” Grantaire paid the same attention to his coffee.

Walking into the apartment three hours after parents evening ended and hand in hand was all Courfeyrac needed to see. “My babies,” he squealed, throwing Enjolras off his lap and wrapping them both on a warm embrace. “Aww I knew it would happen soon. The whole flat in committed relationships I love it, now I can flaunt my love for the world to see. Although please do give me and Enjy some signal when you are doing it as,” Courfeyrac paused for breath. “Enjy baby has delicate sensibilities and the noise of you two going at it may hurt his feelings,” he mock whispered, and grinned at Enjolras’ glare from where he was laid on the floor.

“I’m asexual not a priest you twat,” Enjolras tried to hide a smile. Grantaire loved this, the jibing of friends and Combeferre’s hand in his.

“How ever do you cope? Such a prolific lover with an amour who does not provide,” Grantaire prodded the bear with an accuracy he had honed over years.

“I go to the Pontmercy residence to get my kisses in,” Courfeyrac grinned as Enjolras wrapped round him with a hug.

“You mean get your dick wet,” Enjolras scoffed as Courfeyrac kissed him on the cheek then gasped.

“You are right, light of my life. I come here to get my kisses in!” all three spectators just rolled their eyes at the escapades. “But now you are back and haven’t been taken by night prowlers or whatever, I am going to take my paramor to bed for a night of wonder,” Courfeyrac dragged Enjolras away with a wink.

“Watching Masterchef Australia and cuddling,” Combeferre arched his eyebrow with a smile to Grantaire.

“A night of wonder!” Courfeyrac shouted with a flourish and slammed the bedroom door.

**Author's Note:**

> Please chat and if anyone wants anymore let me know!


End file.
